To be aware, and to dare

A few things came to mind last Sunday, after hearing the readings. In the first reading, Isaiah is called, and he answers "Here I am, send me!" In the second, St. Paul talks about his commissioning to evangelize. The Gospel talks about some of the first of Jesus' disciples, and how they were called to become fishers of men. Hearing the readings and the excellent sermon of our parish priest, the following seemed noteworthy to me. First, all the commissioned men were aware of their sinfulness. St. Peter sums it up best: "Leave me Lord, I am a sinner!" But of course, the Lord loves him more than that. Second, they were called anyway. To Isaiah, these words were said:

‘See now, this has touched your lips, your sin is taken away, your iniquity is purged.’

Jesus says simply, "Do not be afraid."

It seems to me that here there are two aspects in this conversation between myself and God: to be aware of who God is, and of my sinfulness, and to dare to take His hand and follow after Him. I think that the former is necessary in order to get to the latter. Not because the Lord disdains the proud -- I think He calls everyone, great and small, good and bad. I think it is more the case that the proud may not be willing to take God's hand. They might instead say "I have it sorted." They might not be timid enough to dare cast their nets.

I have my own version of St. Peter's confession of guilt, and I can't say if it is good or bad, but it is how I find myself saying it. "Don't ever leave me Lord, I am a sinner! Where else can I go?" But I do pray that I will one day attain a level of faith and confidence in God so that I can stop saying that in nervous apprehension. Lord, I do believe, but please help my unbelief! But the answer is probably there already. I should put out into deep water and lower my net.

Love demands honesty

Retired Bishop Rene Henry Gracida of Corpus Christi, shares the thoughts of Phil Lawler from Catholic World News, concerning the recently deceased Senator Edward Kennedy. It may seem disrespectful to call out the sought after conversion (back to the faith of his youth) from the late senator, but that sentiment comes from the same place where we dread to call out a living person to repentance and truth. It is a deceptive place. What might be thought to be love, preventing us from speaking truth to spare ruffled feathers, even genuine pain, is not love when it does not seek to save one who hurtles towards destruction.

Lest we be presumptuous

From today's Gospel reading, from St. Luke 13:1-9:

At that time some people who were present there told him about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with the blood of their sacrifices. He said to them in reply, "Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were greater sinners than all other Galileans? By no means! But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did! Or those eighteen people who were killed when the tower at Siloam fell on them --do you think they were more guilty than everyone else who lived in Jerusalem? By no means! But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will all perish as they did!" And he told them this parable: "There once was a person who had a fig tree planted in his orchard, and when he came in search of fruit on it but found none, he said to the gardener, 'For three years now I have come in search of fruit on this fig tree but have found none. (So) cut it down. Why should it exhaust the soil?' He said to him in reply, 'Sir, leave it for this year also, and I shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it; it may bear fruit in the future. If not you can cut it down.'"

Readings from Wednesday of Holy Week

Mass Readings

First reading	Isaiah 50:4 - 9
The Lord has given me a disciple’s tongue. So that I may know how to reply to the wearied he provides me with speech. Each morning he wakes me to hear, to listen like a disciple. The Lord has opened my ear. ...

Psalm or canticle: Psalm 68

Gospel	Matthew 26:14 - 25
One of the Twelve, the man called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, ‘What are you prepared to give me if I hand him over to you?’ They paid him thirty silver pieces, and from that moment he looked for an opportunity to betray him. ...

Readings from the Liturgy of the Hours

Mid-morning reading (Terce)	1 Timothy 2:4 - 6
God our saviour wants everyone to be saved and reach full knowledge of the truth. For there is only one God, and there is only one mediator between God and mankind, himself a man, Christ Jesus, who sacrificed himself as a ransom for them all. He is the evidence of this, sent at the appointed time.

---

Noon reading (Sext)	Romans 15:3 ©
Christ did not think of himself. The words of scripture apply to him: the insults of those who insult you fall on me.

---

Afternoon reading (None)	Hebrews 9:28
Christ offers himself only once to take the faults of many on himself, and when he appears a second time, it will not be to deal with sin but to reward with salvation those who are waiting for him.

[All readings from Universalis.com]

May Almighty God have mercy on us, forgive us our sins, and bring us to everlasting life

The above is said at the end of the Penitential Rite, soon after Mass begins. A Lutheran acquaintance complained a few weeks back about the said prayer because it says "may" when it is already a fact that God has shown mercy and forgiven our sins. This is a common understanding among Protestants for whom it is most important to emphasize that we have obtained forgiveness unmerited -- past, present and future. However, while it is true that the once and for all atonement in Calvary expiates all our sins for all times, it remains a proper posture for us to actually ask for forgiveness at all times. Protestants variably refer to this as being confronted by the Law and living out repentance for our entire lives, or, as some Evangelicals use the term, pleading the blood for forgiveness (among other things). None of them would deny the singular event on Calvary, but they mostly recognize that we all continue to sin, even after having become Christians (whether from baptism or, as others think, from praying the sinner's prayer). For these, which were not confessed when we first became Christians, we humbly ask pardon. And for our continuing attachment to sin -- concupiscence -- leading us to the same sin again and again, we must repent.

Therefore, I don't see that the above prayer is problematic at all. It would not have met with objections if ancient Christian liturgy and Scriptures are any indication. Here is an ancient Lenten prayer, which is also a commentary for today's Gospel reading (Luke 15:1 - 32) on the prodigal son:

Saint Andrew of Crete (660-740), monk and Bishop Grand canon of the Orthodox Lenten liturgy, 1st ode "Here am I, dying from hunger. I shall get up and go to my father" How shall I begin to weep for the works of my life? What shall be the first notes of my mourning chant? In your mercy, O Christ, grant me the forgiveness of my sins… As the potter who moulds the clay So you have given me, O my Creator, flesh and bones, breath and life. O Lord who created me, my judge and Saviour, Take me back to you this day. O my Saviour, before you I confess my sins. I have fallen beneath the blows of the Adversary; Behold the wounds with which my death-dealing thoughts Have wounded, like brigands, my soul and body (Lk 10,30f.). I have sinned, my Lord, yet I know that you love mankind. It is in tenderness you chastise us And in your ardent compassion. You see me weeping and come towards me Like the Father welcoming the prodigal son. Since my youth, O my Saviour, I have despised your commandments. I have spent my life in obsession and heedlessness. I call to you: Before I die, Save me… I have dissipated in emptiness the inheritance of my soul. I lack the fruits of fervour and now I feel hunger. I cry out: Father, full of compassion, come to me, Take me in your mercy. The one whom the robbers attacked (Lk 10,30f.) Is myself in the midst of the wandering of my thoughts. They strike me and wound me. But you, O Christ my Saviour, bend down to me and heal me. The priest sees me and turns away. The Levite sees me, naked and in distress, but passes by on the other side. But you, O Jesus born of Mary, You stop to help me. Jesus, I cast myself at your feet; I have sinned against your love. Free me from this burden for it is too heavy for me And, in your mercy, take me to yourself. Do not enter into judgement with me, Do not uncover my deeds, Nor inspect my motives and desires. But in your compassion, All-Powerful one, Close your eyes to my sins and save me. Now is the time of repentance. I come to you. Free me from the heavy burden of my sins And, in your gentleness, grant to me tears of repentance.

Revival

Christianity Today publishes this interesting article from Becky Tirabassi, "Young, Restless and Ready for Revival". The Evangelical term "revival" is not familiar to me as a Catholic, but the way it is described here, it seems akin to the notion of renewal. For Catholics, renewal is something we are challenged to do in different contexts. There is an annual call to renewal at Lent, there is a renewal at every retreat or recollection, and there is a regular call to renewal at every Mass, which means at least once a week. The call to revival/renewal is always a call to action. It is interesting that, even in the Evangelical world, confession (though not quite the Catholic or Orthodox sacrament) is crucial. As David Shutz told me over lunch, there is a great deal in common between Catholics and Evangelicals. So Evangelicals have got confession -- now they just need to make the connection with priestly absolution as Christ had instructed for some sins to be retained or forgiven at the discretion of his disciples.